Moments in Time
by I Have Gone Away
Summary: In a moment, everything can change. One can find the love, friendship and family ties they've constantly sought for. It is only in that moment that they understand what a beautiful thing they've found. FE13 drabblish stuff, requests are currently open if you don't mind the wait. Spoilers if you haven't made it through the game/seen certain supports/played certain DLC maps.
1. I

**I – Salvation**

* * *

She does not walk. She glides, as though the earth below is too much for her to handle. In his eyes, the earth doesn't deserve the blessed touch of someone so beautiful. But her expression… is that sorrow? No, it's fear. Fear for all of them, their eyes drinking her up, assessing in silence. He watches her gulp as she looks to Basilio, awaiting orders.

"This is Olivia. She'll be getting us out of Plegia."

On a day stained by death, Gaius could not have heard better news.

* * *

**A/N: This one was kinda short. Sorry. That's my style (: I might crank out another little something this week. So far requests are accepted.  
**


	2. II

**II—Goldilocks**

* * *

Moonlight seeps into the tent, ricocheting off her porcelain skin. Long lashes tiptoe across her cheekbones. And framing her peaceful face are the golden ringlets that everyone knows her by. Well, that and her… _unique_ attitude.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed," Henry murmurs with a chuckle.

The Shepherds had fought the Risen well into the night. This batch of them had been unusually strong, and the Shepherds were taken by surprise. Of course Henry hadn't been fazed in the slightest; he was always alert, and always ready for battle. But he'd kept an eye on Maribelle, zapping any goons who got anywhere close to her. She'd been very busy, running around trying to heal everyone, which already took a lot out of her. More than likely, she'd wandered into camp so tired it didn't matter whose tent it was. Bedtime was bedtime.

Curious, he gently takes her hand. It's crazy tiny, like a doll's, but remarkably warm. He marvels at how their hands fit together. They're so different—his cause the wounds, hers seal them up again—but together they are the same.

He lets go of her hand and rises from her side. He wouldn't have gotten any sleep anyway. Insomniac's curse.

Heh. Curse.

But before he goes, he looks back once more, wondering what a ring would look like on that dainty finger of hers.

* * *

**A/N: I adore Henry x Maribelle. Don't ask me why. I probably couldn't tell you. Thanks for the reveiws, Breezesong24 and TheFreelancerSeal! I'll get on your requests right away. (:**


	3. III

**III—Minervykins**

* * *

Severa's plan was flawless.

Her father had been training her in the art of stealth over the past few weeks. Now was her chance to show off all she'd learned. All she had to do was slip silently through these trees and scare her fiancé half to death. Then when he got mad, she could make it up to him with a smooch, or… something romantic like that.

She was close now. His irresistible wind-tossed hair and broad shoulders were just discernible. Giggling at her own brilliance, she went to make her move—

And then the cooing began.

"Oh, you're such a sweet girl! Aren't you, Minervykins? Yes, yes you are!"

Severa tried to hold back the guffaw. She really did. But the laughter exploded from her so violently she fell straight out of the bush and onto the ground.

Startled, Gerome whipped around. "Severa? What are you—?"

It finally occurred to him that he'd been crooning at Minerva like a new mother for some time. He blushed crimson. "It's not what… This isn't… I… ugh!" With a mighty huff, he mounted Minerva and urged her into the sky.

Severa could barely control herself, but she recovered enough to call after him, "Wait! Gerome! Get back… here…!"

But he was long out of earshot. A mere speck among the clouds.

"So much for that plan," she grumbled.

* * *

**A/N: Not as lyrical as before… sorry. Despite that, I hope you enjoyed their awkwardness. (: No updates this weekend, but I'll be back Monday.**


	4. IV

**IV—Flowers**

* * *

There were things Sumia missed from before she was queen. No longer did people meet her gaze or call her by name, nor did they giggle openly with her when she tripped over nothing. The haughty courtiers only murmured behind their fans, trading snide remarks regarding "Chrom's klutz queen."

_Chrom. _Sumia was suddenly aware of the empty place beside her on the bed.

"Chrom?"

No answer came. Not a verbal one, anyway.

The perfume swept around her in a floral pirouette. Looking around for the source, she spotted the white flowers in her husband's place. Gardenias, her favorite.

She hardly noticed Chrom exiting the bathroom, a towel slung casually about his waist. He looked into the room to see her, dancing with the bouquet, more graceful than she'd ever been.

Shaking the droplets from his hair, he grinned and said, "Happy anniversary."

With a gasp, Sumia leapt into his towel-dried arms. Perhaps she was his klutz queen, but today, she was only his.

* * *

**A/N: I totally winged this one. Hopefully it turned out okay. And no, I don't know if Sumia actually likes gardenias. I just know they smell good. (:**


	5. V

**V—Nightmares**

* * *

Frederick finds comforts in fire. Against the black of night, the flames dance hypnotically across the logs, soothing his racing mind. Though he is ever on the alert, the brief moments of bliss provide the release he needs to carry on.

"…Frederick?"

The voice startles him, but he relaxes when he sees it's only Lissa. Concern blooms as he notes the bags under her eyes. "Shouldn't you be in bed, milady?"

She plops down beside him, gazing despondently into his fire. "I… can't really get to sleep anymore. Every time I do, all I see is…" She almost can't go on. Sniffling, she begins again. "All I see is Emm… just lying there…"

He sympathizes, but doesn't reveal his own troubles. Ever since they began this fateful march away from Plegia, he is plagued by the same image. Every waking moment he spends pondering what he could have done differently. And time and time again, he comes up empty. He'd failed them all… the exalt, Chrom, and especially Lissa.

Frederick feels her head rest against his shoulder. Tears fall onto his breastplate, though whether they are hers or his remains a mystery.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, angst. How I love thee. Updates might get a little dicey with finals right around the corner. I'll do my best to keep up. **


	6. VI

**VI – Perfect**

* * *

Sully was jealous.

All her life she'd trained and trained to be the best damn knight there ever was. And now here was Frederick, barely flicking his wrist and felling foes.

Growling, she hacked the Risen goon to pieces with her sword. "Damn him…!"

She watched him toss his head back, chocolate hair bouncing right back into place. His horse whinnied softly, and he gave it an affectionate scratch before charging towards the next enemy.

Sully found a rosy blush creeping across her face. Shaking her head, she urged her own horse back into the fray. "Damn him… and his damn perfection…"

* * *

**A/N: After a few short millennia and failing two out of two and a half of my finals, I'm back! Yay. Pretty short piece today, sorry. Then again, aren't they all? Thanks for all the reviews and support, I'm very grateful to have such wonderful reviewers. (:**


	7. VII

**VII—New**

* * *

The dress was stunning. Violet fabric swirled around her, shimmering with hidden iridescence. Twisting before the mirror, doubt crept into Cordelia's thoughts. She didn't want to outshine the bride. Sumia was her best friend, after all.

But perhaps Cordelia could finally capture his attention, after all this time.

_No! _She turned away from her reflection. Those thoughts had to end today. Today, Chrom was getting married, to her best friend. She loved both of them dearly. They'd be happy together. They deserved each other. But it was so hard to let him go.

A deep knock came from the door. "Cordelia? Is time to be punching road, yes?"

That's right. Gregor was waiting to escort her. She stopped a moment, smiling as she thought about his strong arms, his thoughtful advice, his huge grin…

"Coming!" she called, snatching up her bag. Maybe today, in this new dress, she could let someone new into her heart.

* * *

**A/N: Needless to say, she caught the bouquet. (: Sorry that this one was so corny. I just have always wanted to put Cordelia in purple.**


	8. VIII

**VIII—Shell**

* * *

So far, Donnel was truly enjoying his time in the Outrealms. Most of his life, he'd been behind a plow, and from there he could only see the ground before him that needed tilling. The acres of wheat and corn had their own beauty, but that monochromatic setting left something to be desired.

This beach, in stark contrast, left him dazzled. The golden sand, the exotic forest, and the miles of glittering water that seemed to kiss the sky…he'd never seen anything like it in all his days.

So here he stood, staring down, pondering at one tiny little shell. The glistening corkscrew jutted out of the sand like an ancient ruin waiting to be found. Flawless and impossibly white, Donnel marveled at this phenomena of nature. He reached down to grab it, knowing it was the perfect gift for—

His hand collided with another one, this one tiny and pale.

—Nowi.

He looked up into her violet eyes, sputtering an apology. "I-I'm real sorry Nowi, honest, I d-didn't see you there!"

She only giggled in that way of hers. "It's okay Donny! You can have it."

Still reeling from the sudden contact, he'd forgotten that the gift was intended for her. But now he understood that maybe a gift with a little more sparkle was in order…

* * *

**A/N: Phew, long one today. Hopefully you enjoyed it (: Unfortunately I'll be taking a week off from fanfics due to academic stress and camping, but I'll be back with more in weeks to come. See ya!**


	9. IX

**IX-Butterfly**

* * *

Morgan's fiance was the most interesting person he knew. With her gorgeous blue hair and unwavering strength and her way of cutting through foes like it was nothing... He admired her almost as much as he admired his mother, and that was saying something. He could remain focused for hours while she told him about the grim future he couldn't even remember.

Well, usually he would.

She'd tried to ignore his giggling, but now Lucina had to know. "What is so funny?"

He tried his best not to explode. "There's...a butterfly on your forehead!"

She looked up, and sure enough, a pale set of wings was just in her field of vision. A little annoyed, she shooed the creature away with her hand. "This is serious, Morgan. If you want to become a great tactician, you must learn to-"

But he was gone. He was after the tiny butterfly with the grace of a kitten, trying desperately to catch it in his tiny hand.

Lucina just watched him, a rare smile on her lips. Through all the danger and despair of this war, his moments of silliness reminded her of the world she was fighting for.

* * *

**A/N: Guess who's back? Unfortunately I can tell I'll be very off-and-on this summer. So sorry. I'll do my best to be vigilant with these requests. Until next time!**


	10. X

**X-Fate**

* * *

In the dead of night, Lucina fiddled with Falchion. Her sword. Her father's sword. Her father's sword she nearly used on her father's best friend.

She knew he would be the one to betray her father. They'd been through battle after battle, prevailing with her father's strength and Robin's tactical genius. Their bonds of friendship and trust were stronger than any she'd ever seen. But she'd also seen Robin's bonds to the Fell Dragon and his own father. He couldn't control himself, and that would be her father's downfall.

With a sigh, she shifted uncomfortably on her bedroll. She would have done it. She should have done it. She'd do anything to save her father. But for some reason, she wavered. It wasn't Robin's words that got to her. It wasn't the thought of how her father-and the whole army for that matter-would fall apart without him. It was the thought of how she'd fall apart without him.

Robin was always there for her. Whenever she receded into her dark memories, he would shed light on the situation. He would assure her that they would win this war and never let the desolation of her future come to be. And she found herself loving him for it.

Lucina shifted again, and closed her eyes. She needed the rest tonight. There was plenty of time to ponder her cruel fate tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: A bit dark perhaps? Sorry. I'm a little out of my element with this one. I've never tried nor cared for Robin x Lucina, but this was a great challenge. Til next time. (:**


	11. XI

**XI-Unknown**

* * *

It was the eve of their final battle. Likely, it would be Robin's final battle, and she was not without fear. As she stared holes into the tactical book in her hands, her nerves waltzed frantically under her skin.

Her final decision, which she had told no one, was to end Grima herself. It was the only way to save the world and all her friends from any further devastation at the Fell Dragon's hands. But she could not say she faced her choice with no regrets. Though there was a chance she may return to Ylisse after performing this mighty deed, it was very slim. She struggled to think that she might be leaving behind those she loved forever.

"You're going to sacrifice yourself, aren't you?"

She had nearly forgotten Stahl beside her. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed she'd been under her husband's scrutiny. To him, she'd always been transparent.

It was easy to put on a brave face on the battlefield. The army was hers to mold, for she had gained their trust, though she hardly deserved it. Calling out orders and formations was cut-and-dry, even on her darkest days with her darkest thoughts. But here, tonight, in the tent she shared with him, the tears fell from her eyes as she collapsed into the arms of the cavalier she couldn't live without.

* * *

**A/N: Gee, I can sure lighten the mood, eh? Apologies, I just draw my inspiration from Robin's dark side. I also just learned drabbles are supposed to be 100 words...whoops. Sorry if I mislead anyone. Short stuff is short stuff, right...? Until next time.**


	12. XII

**XII-Confused**

* * *

Robin hardly notices anything as he trudges back to his comrades. Dazed and breathless, he passes through the dissipating purple smoke given off by this new threat. He'd been through two battles now with these people he'd just met today. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask?

As Robin approaches, he notes Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick had gathered to inspect something. Lissa and Frederick part so the tactician may join them, and he sees it isn't some_thing_, but some_one_. A masked man stood before them, with hair a hue as blue as Chrom's own. _This must be the man who saved Lissa earlier, _Robin realizes.

Upon further scrutiny, the tactician's feelings for the masked character morph from gratitude to intrigue. The young man's form is shockingly lithe, and each movement he makes has an air of grace about it. His strength is clear in his set jaw and the ever-present hand on his sword hilt, though the hand itself could be said to be dainty as a woman's. And as he reveals his name for the first time-

"You may call me Marth."

-his husky voice is strangely..._attractive._

On his way back to the campsite, Robin wonders at his situation. He had thought waking up in a field and suddenly becoming an army's tactician was confusing. But falling for a man? Clearly he needs the rest that's waiting for him.

* * *

**A/N: Very specific request here. Robin x Marth, though unbeknownst to him Marth is Lucina...I hope I did that brilliant little number some justice. Some long-winded, long-awaited justice at that... Until next time. (:**


	13. XIII

**XIII-Son**

* * *

Battles never failed to set Robin on edge, but now that he was married, he was more concerned than ever. It was difficult enough to guide an entire army to victory. Now every passing enemy could be the end of his wife. There was absolutely no way he would lose the love of his life so shortly after finding her. So he kept her close and let no fiend touch her.

But now Panne was not at his back. He cut down another general with a quick blast of Thoron, then whipped around, searching for her. He let out a sigh of relief as he spotted her not forty meters away. No enemies in sight. None save the man she was talking to.

Robin ran up to see if she needed assistance, but froze where he stood. The man she spoke with was clearly taguel, with attire matching Panne's in blue and a beaststone at his side. He shuddered as she yelled something at him, shrinking into himself even more. But when she invited him to battle beside her, he nodded happily, a plume of hair bobbing.

A plume of hair the exact hue of Robin's.

A beautiful feeling blossomed in the tactician's chest. Without another thought, he went to fight alongside his wife and his future son.

* * *

**A/N: This was so much fun to write. I might have a new OTP. (: Almost through these requests, slowly but surely. One more to go! Until next time.**


	14. XIV

**XIV-Aunt**

* * *

Lissa was more than a little annoyed with Chrom. She admitted it wasn't his fault; he was so tied up with regal duties and meetings with foreign officials, he barely made it to bed before dawn. But she imagined even her brother could clear _some _time for his wife at this stage of her pregnancy. It left Lissa in one of the most awkward situations she'd ever faced: entertaining her sister-in-law.

The issue was not with Sumia. Lissa adored her. The problem lied with the tiny human inside of her. Lissa had enough trouble with being a princess...but what was in store for her as an aunt? Was there a secret protocol she didn't know about? Through her excitement, she wasn't sure she was ready.

Despite her anxiousness, Lissa charged into the room, plopping down into the seat beside the queen. "Hey Sumia!"

Sumia looked up from her book with a warm smile. But her expression soon changed as she gave a sudden cry. "Oh!"

Reeling, Lissa spluttered an apology. "I-I'm sorry! What's wrong?"

In an instant, Sumia's sunny smile was back. "Nothing at all! The baby's just kicking. Would you like to feel?"

Lissa placed a cautious hand on Sumia's stomach as she indicated. Sure enough, two little feet were moving beneath the bulge. She found the sensation...oddly soothing.

The blonde princess sighed contentedly. Perhaps she was ready to be an aunt after all.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. My tablet broke and writing became a whole lot harder without it. Hopefully this poor little update lived up to its high expectations**... **Well, until next time.**


	15. XV

**XV-Yield**

* * *

A crack like thunder echoed over the sea of heads. Then another, and another. A pause, then one more resounding thwack before the man cried out:

"Yield! I beg of you-!"

The man in Feroxi blue had been on the field mere minutes, but he was sweating and breathing heavily enough to convince anyone he'd been at it all day. His blunt lance had been knocked a good yard from where he lay. Hands raised, he gazed fearfully up into the eyes of his opponent.

She regarded him with an expression full of disappointment. Though she pitied the man, she didn't have time for one who would fall flat in the arena. Flicking the practice sword away from the man's chest, she raised it to the crowd of soldiers gathered around them. "Who's next?"

The soldiers tried to hide their conversations behind the shafts of their lances. They knew none of them could impress her. They were good, they were Feroxi, but they certainly weren't enough for the East-Khan. They'd embarrass her in the arena.

Amidst the chatter, one gravelly voice rang out. "Found yourself some champions yet, Flavia?"

"Save your half-witted remarks for another time, oaf," Flavia replied, not really paying attention. "I'm busy."

The winded soldier skittered away to make room for said "oaf." Though there wasn't a hair on his head, the eye-patch and feathery collar of a warrior proved this man was for from over the hill.

His laugh could have shook the earth. "Not even enough time for me? The _reigning khan_?"

The last two words caught her attention, as they were meant to. "Not for long, if I can help it. When this tournament's over, I'll be able to crush that bloated ego of yours under my foot."

"Ha, at your age, you'd never have the strength to raise that foot high enough!" he retorted smugly.

_There._ He'd struck the nerve. Fire blazed between the East-Khan's ears. "...What was that you were saying, Basilio?!"

Basilio sobered instantly. "Uhh...you simply radiate with beauty these days, you-"

Flavia brandished her practice sword, smirking devilishly. "You know, Basilio, I believe I just cleared up some time for you."

* * *

**A/N: We interrupt your important request to bring you...meaningless and poorly written Flavia/Basilio banter! This monstrosity was the introduction to a Flavia-centric fic I was trying to write back in the day. I found it when I was cleaning my room and thought, what the hey, I'll post it. Sorry to ruin your day with my old stuff...until next time.**


	16. XVI

**XVI-Craving**

* * *

Gaius had made it very clear to her that he'd keep his secret to the grave. No matter how she pleaded or what bribes she'd offer, he simply refused to tell her.

She thought it was all ridiculous...she was his wife! They'd pledged to share everything with one another. But clearly, that was not the case with him. He just couldn't comprehend her need. Here she was, tortured by the very thought of it, and he would not share his surplus, not even a bite! It was traitorous behavior indeed.

Tharja had given her a very odd look when she'd made the request. Either it was confusion at the oddity of the situation or jealousy at the mention of the name of the red-headed thief. Nonetheless, the sorceress carried out the divination to find the location. She'd do anything for her precious Robin.

Now here the tactician stood, smirking devilishly at the unearthly horde of sweets before her. Cakes, candies and cookies adorned every crevice. She'd finally found it. Rather than stand there like an idiot wasting time, she reached out for the one thing she wanted all along: the luscious chocolate bar.

But before she could taste sweet victory, his hand snatched up her wrist.

"What are you up to, Bubbles?"

She turned to blink innocently at Gaius, and was met only with a knowing smirk. "Uh..."

"Trying to steal from the thief, eh? And just how did you think that would turn out?"

Robin was desperate to explain herself. But she didn't get a word out before he sighed heavily, placing a hand on her round stomach.

"I guess I can make the sacrifice for my kid...just this once." He shot a dirty glare at the chocolate, the foul temptress who'd captured his wife's eye.

The tactician reached up to kiss him, and understood it was the sugar on his lips she'd been craving all along.

* * *

**A/N: Argh this is massive! But Gaius x Robin is pretty special to me, so I'd call it worth it. Hopefully you readers agree. Until next time, keep being wonderful. (:**


	17. XVII

**XVII-Note**

* * *

Robin sighed contentedly, leaning against the back of her chair. At long last, the route to Mount Prism was all mapped out. They'd make a small stop in Ylisse to gather supplies, then figure out what all the fuss was about this "mirage village" before braving the mountain itself. Pleased, she grabbed her favorite tactical book from the tabletop for a little light reading before dinner.

As she leafed through the pages of the thick tome, she was surprised to see a piece of paper flutter out into her lap.

_Robin,_

_Join me for dinner in the mess tent tonight. Perhaps we could further discuss my offer over some Feroxi mead I've been saving._

_(Just don't let Basilio catch us with it.)_

_~Flavia_

Recalling their previous encounter, with the flowers and...odd sentiments, Robin couldn't help but shudder. She had no idea how to take the khan's advances. Though she couldn't deny the twinge she felt as she read the note over again. Anticipation? Giddiness?

_I'm probably just excited at the idea of trying the mead, _the tactician reasoned with herself.

The dinner bell beckoned her from her tent, but she still had no name for the feeling, even with the blush creeping up her neck.

* * *

**A/N: Flavia's support with the female avatar is certainly...steamy. (; And in my defense, I'm not trying to style Robin as an alcoholic, just a woman into exotic tastes. In other news, I'm out of town for the next few weeks, so updates might be dicier than usual. Much love to all the patient readers, reviewers, and requesters. Until next time.**


	18. XVIII

**XVIII-Logbook**

* * *

Laurent stares down at the blank page before him. Chewing on the end of his quill (a terrible habit), he thinks hard about the events of the day. Finding the words he's been searching for, he dips the weathered quill in the ink and begins to write.

_I undertook the task of monitoring the status of this army, as is my daily routine. Gerome made his usual inquiries regarding my findings. I had nothing unusual to report; everyone was in good health and the convoy was stocked up. But he pointed out our prominent need for arrows for the aerial foes we may very well face. How could I have made such a blunder? I should have made the deduction long before he had to bring it to light. Though the man is uninterested in social interaction, he is much more observant and caring than anyone realizes._

Laurent pauses to ponder. He does remember something odd from his encounter with Gerome, and quickly sets about scribbling it down.

_Gerome did ask something peculiar of me today. He seemed very interested in the well-being of Noire in particular. I was under the impression he was still concerned about arrows, as she is an archer. Or perhaps he felt her ailments may be preventing her from serving in the army properly. Though I believe there is something more to his request than I am seeing._

He hears muffled voices not too far from his tent. He doesn't wish to pry, but his observant tendencies compel him to peek out from his tent flap.

As if otherworldly forces summoned them, Gerome and Noire are speaking outside. Laurent can't make out the words, but he notes that she looks embarrassed and a bit frightened. However, that is a rather normal expression for her. What he is shocked by is the subtle bashfulness in Gerome's stance, and the crimson blush lining his mask.

Understanding dawns upon the mage. He returns to his desk, takes up the quill, and write the final sentence of his entry with a smile.

_I believe my dear friend Gerome is in love._

* * *

**A/N: I tried something a little different here. Gerome's supports with Noire and Laurent both contained threads of his concern for others, so I tied them together and this happened. I hope it turned out all right. Thanks for your lovely request, dear guest reviewer! Until next time, everyone.**


	19. XIX

**XIX-Playtime**

* * *

Ricken watched Nowi twirl impatiently inside the tent they both shared. He'd hoped to sleep in a little more this morning after the battle went on so late yesterday. But now his wife was ready to play with him, and nothing would satisfy her until he complied.

_Wife. _He savored the word. They were married now. It was a huge change for him, but certainly one for the better. He would spend his life beside the woman he loved. Looking back, he wouldn't change a thing about his decision.

Yet, a few details still got to him. It was how people stared at them when they went into town together. Nowi seemed oblivious or too giddy to care, but he noticed their looks of distaste. To most people, the two of them still looked too young to be married. But what bothered him most were his thoughts of the future. He would age and take on the look of maturity (someday), but she would remain in the body of a child thanks to her long manakete life. The looks they'd receive in town would be a lot dirtier than they were now. He feared that might spell disaster for their relationship, which was the last thing he'd ever want.

He was thrust out of his thoughts when a sudden weight plopped onto his back. Nowi pouted at him when he turned to look.

"Rickeeeeeeeen!" she whined. "Let's play!"

Ricken released an exasperated sigh, but there was a smile on his face. He could discard those adult thoughts for now. With her, he was in no rush to grow up.

* * *

**A/N: Credit for the ideas in that third paragraph to smileplease91 and her story, Curious Smile. She pulls off this adorable pairing much better than I do. In the meantime, I hope you lovely readers are still enjoying. Until next time.**


	20. XX

**XX-Speechless**

* * *

Severa's fingers trace the name engraved on her sword. _O-W-A-I-N. _In a few hours, he would leave with Brady, Yarne, and Inigo to get Sable and Argent. Meanwhile, she would set out with Gerome and Laurent to retrieve Vert and the Fire Emblem to bring to Lucina. While she takes her duty without complaint (a shocking feat, considering her record), she cannot help but feel disappointed that Owain won't be at her side. She understands the burden of the future is upon them and they must do all they can to save the world, and she is more than willing to do so. What she cannot let go of are the feelings of regret. She wishes she would have just told him how she felt the first time she realized it. Now it's too late, and there was no telling if either of them would survive this ordeal.

She mentally kicks herself. Look at her, fawning over some boy, just like her mother. Pitiful.

Quiet footsteps approach the door. Severa turns to look, and is surprised to see the man she was just thinking of. "Owain?"

Something isn't right. He isn't posturing or being a weirdo. He only looks at her gloomily. "O-oh, hey Severa. I..."

At a loss, she resorts to her usual spluttering. "W-well? Spit it out! Do you have something to say or not? I haven't all day to just-"

She stops mid-sentence to find her face in his hands and his lips upon hers.

"Mmph?!"

Owain breaks the kiss, blushing crimson. He turns and leaves her room as silently as he came.

And, for once, Severa is speechless.

* * *

**A/N: For those who haven't played the Future Past maps, this is set in the future timeline where the kids are making an attempt to save the world. Also, forgive the out-of-characterness of these two, but I think their support proves they've both got bigger hearts than anyone realizes. Hopefully this update fits the bill for you readers! Much love for you all. Until next time.**


	21. XXI

**XXI-Ring**

* * *

Kellam admired the simple diamond ring from his side of the glass. On his farmer-turned-knight's budget, he couldn't afford any of these fancier jewels. Then again, Miriel wouldn't want anything too gaudy, and that was provided she said yes.

He never thought he'd fall in love. The chemistry between Chrom and Sumia had been clear for some time, and after their engagement, many of the other Shepherds found their own marital bliss. Kellam was convinced he'd never catch any woman; it was hard enough getting people to realize he existed, much less creating relationships. But Miriel latched on to him. He admitted her persistence was creepy at first, but he came to love her experiments and theories behind his disappearances. Soon enough, he craved the time she spent clinging to him, fearing he would simply fade away from view.

Looking up to see Anna gossiping with one of her merchant sisters, he cleared his throat in an attempt to get their attention, but to no avail. Irritated, he practically screamed, "_Hello?!_"

The two women nearly jumped out of their skins. Noticing Kellam at the jewelry case, the merchant scurried right over to assist him. "1,100 gold, please!"

He paid the absurd price, much to the enthusiastic approval of the two Annas, and was on his way, a meek apology sneaking between his lips. He shouldn't have snapped like that, but he was more than a little weary of being invisible.

Kellam snuck a glance at the ring in his hand. His accidental disappearing act wore him thin with the others, but it had brought him together with Miriel. When she was on his arm, not only did he appear, but he felt he could shine.

* * *

**A/N: I know Kellam said Miriel's ring was handmade in their support, but I really wanted the Anna scene. This one is a bit rushed, so if you have any criticism or suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Also, if you lovely readers are curious about the next chapter or wondering if your pairing is up next, I'll be posting the pairing that's "on deck" on my profile. Until next time!**


	22. XXII

**XXII-Embarrassed**

* * *

_"I have something to tell you."_

_Olivia had never seen him so serious before. She rested a reassuring hand on his arm. "Yes, son?"_

_Blushing, Inigo turned away. "Mother, y-you're embarrassing me..."_

_Embarrassed by his embarrassment, she withdrew shyly. "S-Sorry..."_

_"Anyways..." He recovered his composure, but still could not meet her eyes. "Just take a look at this."_

_The object he'd been fumbling with was now on his outstretched palm for her to see. Olivia gasped when she realized the sparkling bauble was an engagement ring._

_"Oh, Inigo! Who's the lucky girl?"_

_"Well, you see... I'm going to ask-"_

Olivia shook her head, the tears pouring down her cheeks. He'd really expected that she'd frown upon the marriage. Actually, the fact that her flirtatious son wanted to settle down was something she'd never thought she'd live to see. Besides, he and Robin made a cute couple, always batting eyelashes at each other.

The pair took the floor as the gathered Shepherds cheered at their union. As Olivia watched her son and the tactician twirl across the floor, she marveled at what an incredible dancer he had become. But she knew, as a mother always knows, that he would be an even better husband.

* * *

**A/N: A little more family-fluffy than I was shooting for...whoops. Hopefully it was still okay. Also, to the most recent guest reviewer who asked for Inigo x F!Robin too, just let me know if this will suffice or if you'd like another piece to quench your desire. That's all for now...until next time, lovely readers. (:**


	23. XXIII

**XXIII-Preparations**

* * *

"What do you advise we do?"

Robin glanced at Chrom before reconsidering the map. "I'm not sure. If we attack from the forest, communication with our flying units will be completely severed. But we'll be completely vulnerable if we attack from-"

An unearthly screech pierced the walls of the tent. Sharing a concerned look, the two men dashed out of the tent, hands on their sword hilts.

"BLOOD AND THUNDER!"

The jaws of the tactician and the exalt dropped a few good inches. Here was Noire, in one of her rages, an arrow trained on her cowering husband.

"HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME? I SHOULD SMITE YOU HERE!"

"I-I don't w-w-wanna go extinct!" Yarns cried, clutching his head.

"SILENCE! YOU ARE MY HUSBAND AND THEREFORE YOU SHALL BATTLE BESIDE ME! NOW FETCH YOUR BEASTSTONE, YOU WHIMPERING MONGREL!"

The taguel scurried away without another word, with Noire hot on his heels. The rest of the camp could only watch in shock. For newlyweds, they sure seemed...happy?

Tharja crept out from behind the slack-jawed tactician, peeking over his shoulder. "Heh heh...That's my girl."

* * *

**A/N: Noire's alter ego is surprisingly hard to write. ): Regardless, I hope you fabulous readers enjoyed, but make sure to let me know if you didn't. Until next time.**


	24. XXIV

**XXIV-Grin**

* * *

They were quite an obvious pair to the rest of the army. Both of them had entered as a mysterious masked character with eerie knowledge of the what was to come. Fate had dealt them both a cruel hand in their future, their parents stolen from them at the hands of the Fell Dragon. For that reason, their somber dispositions were understandable, but a little ridiculous. Lucina couldn't take a joke to save her life, and Gerome would vanish before he heard the punch line. Smiling didn't really come naturally to either of them. They were both so grim, which was what made it so clear to everyone that they were made for each other.

Semiconscious, Gerome shifted in his bedroll, expecting to meet the lovely face of his wife. Instead, he blinked at the air and the early morning sunbeams.

He sat up quickly and scanned their tent, alarmed. His panic subsided once he spotted her knelt in the corner. But his vision was still a little blurry... What was that on her face?

Was that... his mask?

Lucina froze like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. How could she possibly explain this? She stared into the ground, awaiting his angry words.

They never came. However, what came next was the last thing she ever expected out of him: a chuckle. She looked up to see him smiling at her, laughter rumbling in his throat.

Lucina couldn't help but smile too, the giggles bubbling forth.

They were both so grim, but with each other, they found the time to grin.

* * *

**A/N: Please forgive me for this super-late update. School just began for me, and all the chaos involved with that made writing next to impossible. But the next chapter will be a little special, so hopefully that will make up for it. (; Until next time.**


	25. XXV

**XXV-Story**

Owain is now seven. His favorite pastimes are bothering his elder cousin, Lucina, and pretending to battle great dragons with his other cousin, Cynthia. But, by far, his favorite thing to do is listen to his mother's stories.

So here he is, bouncing wildly on his bed, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?" He begs her.

Lissa giggles at his acrobatics. "Oh, all right."

"Yay!" her son cries, scrambling underneath the covers. He watches her intently as she sits at the end of the bed, clearly pondering a fine enough tale from him to hear.

"Well, there is one story..." Lissa teases.

"Oooh, oooh! Who's it about?"

"The bravest hero I ever knew, back during the war against Grima," she replies.

Owain's eyes grow impossibly wide. "Wow! What was his name?"

This makes his mother pause. After a moment, she says slowly, "His name was... Owain Dark."

He gasps. "Th-That's my name!" Realization dawns upon him, and he grins. "Was I really named after the bravest hero you ever knew?!"

There's a glimmer in Lissa's eye. "Yes. Yes you were."

Owain leaps out of bed, his new excitement lending a whole new surge of energy. "So it's destiny that i should become a brave and mighty warrior!"

"Yes, destiny indeed..." she mumbles. "Come now, little rascal, I can't tell the story if you're not in bed!"

In a moment, he's zoomed back under the covers, but he's still fidgeting.

And so, Lissa sets about telling tales of her son to her son, more proud of them than she'd ever been.

**A/N: First, about this piece. This one is set ten years after the war is over, when Lissa has her own son with [insert potential husband here]. Lissa is a bit out of character, but that was mostly on purpose, since I believe she gains more grace as the years wear on.**

**I thought twenty-five was a nice, round number for something special. So, here it is: If you're reading this, you deserve every ounce of adoration and cookies there are in the world. On this website, I've been through several accounts and many stories, and none have ever seen chapter five, so chapter twenty-five is kind of a big deal. I never could have done it without the strength and support all of you lend me, even though I update so slowly of late. Truly, thank you all.**

**Until next time. (:**


	26. XXVI

**XXVI—Dinner**

* * *

Sully is never nervous. She has iron in her veins and steel in her gut. Every waking moment, she's either killing things or training to kill things. It's her job. It's what she does. It's all she loves.

Well, that and the idiot she married.

She inspects herself again, as if she's looking for bacteria, and curses herself under her breath. There had never been a day in her life where she'd made an effort to look nice. But tonight, she'd shined her armor til it sparkled, and put the ring from the chain around her neck on her finger. As far as she goes, that's a tremendous effort, but what if it wasn't enough for him?

As her eyes scan the dense trees around her, the nerves fidget under her skin. Her, nervous! She burns with embarrassment. She's never nervous. Little girls and delicate ladies who sit around making flower crowns get nervous. Sully has never been one of them. She's never had a reason to be nervous, not until she met...

"My love!"

She steps out of the dark woodland into the clearing she's been searching for. The clearing where she'd first met him, and the selfsame one where she'd first attempted to kick him in the face. The site of their first battle together.

Just like that night, the moonlight gleams on his blue hair, and he wears the same dashing smile. But the groaning Risen and war cries are replaced with candles, flowers, and a picnic dinner. He'd insisted their one year anniversary be something special, and he'd clearly gone to the trouble to make it happen. She has to stifle her gasp, fearing it will make her sound as feminine as she feels.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost!" Virion takes her hand, chuckling lightly. "You look ravishing as always, my dear. I am honored to have such a jewel as my wife."

Sully's nervous feelings melt away before she has time to register it. She'd been silly to harbor any kind of fear at all. She didn't need to become a delicate lady for him, for he already found beauty in her.

* * *

**A/N: I really do apologize for how rare these updates are becoming. Homework and obligations have increased whilst internet access and inspiration have greatly decreased. A true recipe for disaster. Slowly but surely, I'm plowing through. (: Thanks for reading, until next time.**


	27. XXVII

**XXVII—Crows**

* * *

Cordelia paced about on the trodden ground of the campsite. She was chin-deep in all-too familiar turmoil: Should she admit her affections to Chrom, or put her feelings to the wayside?

She liked to believe that he was simply dense and did not sense her emotions. In that case, telling him was the most logical course, for maybe her feelings were secretly returned. However, she could see how such an idealistic plan could go awry in her mind's eye. He was a married man, and to her best friend, no less. The last thing Cordelia wanted to do was meddle in Sumia's happy marriage. But now that her fellow Shepherds were finding happiness with one another—the royal couple, especially—Cordelia craved the love she'd never been granted more than ever.

She paused in her roaming when she spotted their newest recruit alone, sitting in the grass near one of the transport wagons about thirty meters away. He'd joined them two nights ago during a particularly rough skirmish with Risen, cloaked in an ominous murder of crows, but cracking jokes all the way. He was the second Plegian dark mage they'd allowed into their midst, and Cordelia had to admit his ever-present cheery smile found more favor with her than Tharja's demonic grin. Still, his obsession with bloodshed had been made very clear, and not many people chose to interact with him because of it.

She suddenly remembered that she'd been meaning to thank him. Casting away her thoughts for a moment, she marched right over to the white-haired Plegian and sat down beside him.

He turned to face her, smiling as always. "Hey-o, Cordelia! What's up?"

"Hello, Henry," she replied, a little amused by his speech. "I just wanted to thank you for the other night. If you hadn't taken out that sniper, my pegasus and I would have been in a lot of trouble."

"Don't mention it!" Somehow, Henry's smile grew wider, a phenomenon she thought was impossible. "Nothin' I love more than throwing fireballs at bad guys! Pchew, pchew!"

Cordelia giggled lightly, despite the hidden morbidity in his statement. "At least you've got a good attitude..."

Just then, a crow swept in from above and landed on Henry's arm. It squawked indignantly at the two of them, looking wildly between the white-haired boy and the redhead.

When Henry noticed she seemed a little startled, he chuckled. "No worries! This is my buddy Crowley. He just wants to say hi."

Cordelia glanced at the bird. Crowley croaked gently at her, picking up his feet.

"Do you want to pet him? Trust me, he's super nice."

All her instincts screamed _no. _She couldn't help but feel an aversion to a Plegian dark mage offering her his pet crow to touch. But at the same time, this conversation proved she had nothing to fear from Henry. The stigma surrounding him was nothing more than idle gossip and harsh judgment.

Timidly, Cordelia reached out a hand and stroked the crow. The soft ebony feathers, Henry's broadening grin, and her own growing smile made it clear to her that Chrom wasn't the only one who could make her happy.

* * *

**A/N: I had my share of trouble with this one, besides the lateness. As a result, it's monstrously long and Henry lost some of his Henry-ness. Regardless, I hope you readers enjoyed it. Until next time. (:**


	28. XXVIII

**XXVIII—Spar**

* * *

"I am ready, Father," Lucina says, readying her stance.

Chrom considers her, checking for form. Her feet are planted firmly on the ground and her knees are bent slightly. She has a strong grip on the sword, but not too tightly. Her eyes are carefully trained on him, trying to predict his first move.

There isn't anything for him to critique. She is a master in her own right.

However, upon inspecting her, he does notice something. Her Brand flickers in her left eye, and he is reminded of his Lucina at the castle. His heart lightens briefly at the thought of his blue-haired toddler, but those moments pass quickly as he watches the eyes of the Lucina before him. His child has the soft innocence of youth in her blue orbs with every giggle; this young woman has only hardened steel in her gaze. Lucina has seen horrors in her timeline that Chrom never intended for any daughter of his to see. Her Chrom had left her with nothing more than a sword and a war tearing apart her world. Though he knew it was not really him who had failed her, he could not help but feel guilty for the way she had suffered.

"Father?" Lucina asks worriedly. "Is everything all right?"

Chrom snaps out of his thoughts. "Y-yeah..." He brandishes his own practice blade. "Ready?"

She gives no warning. He sees only a flash of cobalt hair, and hears her battle scream. He rolls out of her way just in time.

The next thing he hears is the tearing of fabric. Chrom stands up to see what's the matter, and his jaw falls slack. Somehow, Lucina had managed to deal a blow so strong, it ripped a clean line in the fabric of the tent they'd been sparring next to.

Sumia tentatively sticks her head out of the shredded linen, blinking rapidly. "W-what are you two up to?" she asks her husband, looking startled.

Father and daughter share a glance, swallowing their laughter. Chrom knows he cannot reverse what this girl has seen, but he can fight for a better world for both his Lucinas to share.

* * *

**A/N: Goodness me, November already? I'm really getting bad at this updating thing. But you know, life and all that jazz. Luckily for you guys, a special chapter will **_**for sure **_**be up tomorrow. Much love to all the readers and reviewers, thank you for your patience and kindness. Until tomorrow. (:**


	29. XXIX

**XXIX—Birthday**

* * *

Henry bounced playfully as he walked over to the table, humming a familiar tune. Setting down the cake, he plopped down cheerily in a seat across from an odd-looking teenage girl, who was fiddling with some device she called a "Nintendo 3DS." He cleared his throat to get her attention.

The girl's face protruded from two curtains of long frizzy blonde hair. She smiled widely at Henry, revealing a gap in her front teeth. "Aww, Henry! Happy birthday."

He cackled with delight. "Nya ha ha! Happy birthday yourself, Raeg—"

"Shhhhhh!" She leapt across the table and covered his mouth with both of her hands.

Henry mumbled something that sounded like, "What's the matter?"

"They'll know this is a self-insert!" she said desperately.

"So what?" he replied, though he had no idea what she was talking about. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well..." She returned to her seat, seriously considering his words. "It's really attention-seeking, I guess. But then again, a lot of self-inserts are really popular these days, though they never exactly shine a spotlight on their own birthday..."

"Uh-huh." He still had no clue what she was babbling about. Instead of dwelling upon it, he cut a slice of cake for each of them. "Here, have a slice of cake."

That seemed to bring her out of her funk. "Thank you," she said graciously.

She took the plate and inspected the slice. "Uh, Henry? There's not..._blood _in this cake, is there?"

He blinked up innocently. "Huh? Nope. That's cherry filling. I asked Sumia and Olivia to throw a little in there."

"Oh," the girl sighed with relief.

"But now that you mention it," he gushed, "that sounds awesome! Bloooooood caaaaaake..."

"Oh, Henry," she giggled, gathering a delicious forkful. "Happy birthday."

* * *

**A/N: A day late, but better late than never, I suppose. I'm not sure how I feel about sharing a birthday with Henry... Honestly, it's a little ominous. But it's always been awesome to me, so this was my sad little half-baked tribute to the two of us. However attention-seeking it might have been, I hope you enjoyed. If not, you're in luck—it's all requests from here. (: Until next time, everyone.**


	30. XXX

**XXX—Voodoo**

* * *

Libra could honestly say he loved his life. There were parts of it that seemed bleak—his dismal childhood, his failure to protect Lady Emmeryn, the war he'd fought for years afterwards versus the Fell Dragon—but those were all part of his past now. He'd since settled down with his wife and started an orphanage, just as he had always dreamed of. He could ask Naga for nothing more.

All of a sudden, he thought he heard the quiet sobs of one of the children. He looked up from the text he was reading, brows furrowing in a perplexed expression. Rising from his seat, he strode evenly over to the open doorway to investigate.

Sure enough, a little brown-haired girl was sitting against the wall outside his room, sniffling. Libra knelt beside her. "Whatever is the matter, Rani?"

Rani rubbed at her eyes, flicking away fresh tears. "My dolly is gone... The special one you made for me, Mister Libra..."

"Ah," he said, frowning in thought. After a moment, he stood up beside her. "Come. Let's see if we can find it. We'll have to retrace your steps."

The girl stood as well, brightening a little. "Thank you, Mister Libra."

He began quizzing Rani on where all she'd gone that day as they strolled briskly down the hall, trying to conceal the sinking feeling he had concerning the whereabouts of her doll. But as they passed the doorway of his wife's room, his suspicions were confirmed.

"Wait right here," he told the little girl. "I'll be just a moment."

He thought he had slipped into his wife's room unnoticed, but Tharja was immediately on the alert. Her mumbled incantations halted. The glowing tome on her desk snapped shut in an instant, taking with it her violet halo. She hastily covered the object she'd been using with the wide black sleeves of her sorcerer's garb.

Libra looked over her shoulder, and met her steely ebony gaze. "What is it?" she growled at him.

He smiled mild-manneredly at her. "Oh, nothing..."

Satisfied with his answer, Tharja turned back to her desk, but not before his huge arms could surround her. She blinked in shock—he would rarely act so passionately—then realized the embrace was a falsehood. He had pried Rani's doll from her grasp before she could react.

"Just this," he finished, maintaining his grin.

"Give that back," Tharja snarled. "I'm not done with it."

Only then did Libra notice the needles sticking out haphazardly from the doll's skin. "Obviously not," he remarked. "Tharja, what is the meaning of this?"

She scrambled for a worthy excuse, and finally settled on, "I was sewing."

"Sewing?" Laughter rumbled in Libra's chest as he tentatively reached for his wife's pale hand. "Perhaps next time, we may try it together. Then I can remind you to thread the needle."

* * *

**A/N: Of course, when I finally get something done over my winter break, fanfiction decides that it doesn't like uploading from Google Docs anymore. Well, here we are now. I want to thank every last reader and reviewer for their kindness and patience. Even if I can't respond to you personally, you should feel appreciated, because I appreciate you immensely. Until next time. (:**


End file.
